


SOL

by Nerdasy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Humor, Dark Fantasy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, High Fantasy, Humor, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Original Fiction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-07 07:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdasy/pseuds/Nerdasy
Summary: A chance encounter with the other world leaves Veda in shambles as she suddenly sees things no one else can see. Incorporeal horns appearing on peoples heads, floating bones of humans spirits appearing in the streets with mask wearing doberman-like dogs hunting them for food, little tiny fluff balls that like to steal left socks for some weird fashion statement, and superpowers that helps make Veda move faster than a normal human being and gives off a weird yellow glow when activated, to name a few.But there is one thing that always stays the same: she has to deal with all these new developments and life-altering reality checks all by herself. Of course, if no one else can see what she sees, why would they want to believe her?But that all changes when she finds herself in that other world again and how she finds her way back will alter the fates of not just her reality but all the worlds in their entirety.





	1. Edge 1:1

**Author's Note:**

> Updates every Friday.

I wanted to cry with how pissed off I was. Fate, or maybe this was Destiny, had a crush on me. However, this crush literally smashed my world into little tiny pieces. Both on a literally and figuratively speaking playing field. Finding yourself stuck in a completely different world, again, with your ticket out of there slipping through your fingers -- and that too I meant in the literal sense, word for word -- would piss anyone off.

Moreover, that literal sense, the word-for-word creature that was my golden ticket out of that hell hole was a slippery, fuzzy bastard. An elusive turd that had caused me a lot of misery in the last couple of months.

And it all started with stolen socks.

At first, I didn't know this little fuzzy creature was the origin of my most recent issue. I'd seen it around the neighborhood before, hanging out on top of Thompson's bookstore sign on the corner of Evans St and Haggard, near Milan park that was only a few blocks away from my school, and on top of a trash can behind Southfield restaurant where I'd seen it poking fun at a cat that hung out there because the chef fed it table scraps on his smoke breaks. But after I'd witnessed it, first hand, stealing socks straight from the dryer, I mentally kicked myself in the ass.

Susie can go suck an egg.

So, when I came to collect the laundry for the day as my daily choir and had seen the little shit that was no bigger than my fist stealing a sock straight out from the dryer, I'd taken chase. 

The thing didn't give me a choice on the matter. As soon as it saw me, it took off like a bat out of hell and slipped right past my feet before I could even react, up the flight of stairs that led to the first-floor kitchen and through an open window near the sink.

And let me tell you, that dingleberry was fast. You'd think a little ball of black static with white holes for eyes and stubby, static-y limbs would not be capable of moving fast, but the little shit could float and zip through the air while simultaneously taking bite size M&M shits on Newton's Law of Gravity.

I had no idea what it was, but once I caught it, I was going to stick my green Nike Air Force shoe straight up its ass -- if it even had one -- for the months of me dealing with a shit-storm of blame because someone's left sock always went missing every time it was my turn to do the laundry. 

And why the hell did it only steal the socks when it was my turn to do the laundry? The little shitball had an agenda against me, for whatever reason. 

Actually, there was one reason I could think of . . .

And the little black turd had the audacity to stick the yellow sock with red stripes on top of its head! Taunting me around every corner as I raced after it through the alleyway near Thompson's bookstore. 

It zipped down the alleyway, taking a hard left down Evans St, but I was able to keep up with considerable ease, running in pace with the little turd while screaming profanity at it and not giving a crap about the weird stares I got from everyone I ran past. For some, this wouldn't have been the first time they had seen a short, pale, ten-year-old little girl with dark brown hair and eyes to match racing down the street after an imaginary fiend. 

Of course, this thing wasn't imaginary, but I knew only I could see it.

I learned that lesson the hard way.

After another hard right of it flitting through the air, it took to scaling the side of an old brick building that housed a wine and cheese Brick and Mortar store until it reached the top of an outdated and rusted fire escape that stood two stories above the street. There was no longer a ladder attached where the turd flitted to. Either it rusted off, and the city took care of it, or scrappers got to it first.

From there, it finally came to a halt. Suspending its round, fluctuating static-like body above the side railing, it began to dance across it in a piss poor attempt to mock me from above. Rolling its round body across the railing, the static material of its body pulsated with glee at escaping its pursuer, thinking it was in the clear to gloat its victory without any consequences.

Normally, it would be in the clear to act like the major dick it was transpiring to be, but I wasn't a normal person.

Or, more precisely, I wasn't a normal human.

My hands clenched into fists, but instead of surrendering or glaring daggers at the little shithead like I knew it anticipated, I smiled a dangerous, toothy grin. It stopped dancing when it noticed I wasn't doing what it had expected. The static-like body that had pulsated and frizzed out like crazy as I'd chased after it no longer quivered in rapid concession throughout its body like before. Now, it thrummed in slow, small waves, looking more like a black fuzzball than a static, frizzed out ball. I interpreted that as its way of showing it was curious about what I was going to do next without any suspicion that it was about to be in immediate danger. 

I was going to give it a show. That was for sure.

Taking a step back, I bounced on the balls of my feet, my smile ever present and festering into a shit-eating grin when I suddenly jumped a standing leap, putting all my power into the upsurge; pushing an energy through my body that pulsated at my feet with an eerie yellow glow. 

An electrical current drummed through my blood, and with it, exploited a rush of euphoric excitement that had me laughing maniacally at the now panicking static fluff. Before it could react to my sudden leap, I already had my hands clasped around its fluffy body, trapping it between my fingers while simultaneously pivoting my tingling feet at the edge of the railing. The sock had fallen off and fluttered down to the sidewalk below, but I didn't care to fetch it because that was Susie's sock.

“Gotcha now, you little shit!” I laughed, hard, as I hunched my body over the creature, extending my hands at a safe distance a little ways past my knees. I felt it wiggle in my grasp but was unable to escape as white, worried holes for eyes stared up at me in what could only be described as fear. 

It squirmed between my fingers, unable to comprehend it couldn't get free. Surprisingly, its movements were feather soft. Almost unnoticeable. 

What was even more surprising was the fact the rusted fire escape held up my weight, not once teetering or threatening to collapse when I landed hard on it without putting much thought into my actions.

Staring down at the scared creature-blob in my hands and watching it struggle with little success, I felt a pang of regret frightening it the way I did. I always took things a little too far in my excitement, and this was no exception. 

The thing probably thought I was going to kill it.

I opened my mouth to reassure the creature that I didn't mean it any harm, but quickly snapped it shut when a voice startled me from below.

“Hey, kid!” The voice belonged to an older man, in his late sixties, if I had to take a guess when I looked over my shoulder and down at the guy below me. He was wearing a large overcoat and jeans, so he must have been retired, right? It was the middle of the day on a Wednesday. He had to be retired. “What are you doing up there? That's dangerous! You need to get down from there now!”

Just another grownup thinking he could boss around any kid that didn't have an authoritative figure standing nearby.

“Ya, ya,” I mumbled, not bothering to give a proper response. Truthfully, I was annoyed. If the guy only knew that I had fallen from heights greater than this one, both intentionally and unintentionally, without receiving a scratch, he'd probably piss himself. My smile festered again as I imagined the graying old man’s bewildered look if I'd suddenly jumped without any warning, how he'd be sputtering his words like all the others.

In fact, I was going to do just that.

However, when I looked back down at the man with the intent of jumping down and landing right next to him, he already had that look on his face, like he was witnessing something paranormal.

Like he'd just shit himself.

And when I felt a strange and unexpected thrum coming from my hands, my attention diverted back to the creature; but instead of seeing the worried thing struggling in my grasp, I was confronted by a swirling, image-distorting vortex that had already engulfed my hands and was creeping its way up past my wrists. 

And the damned shitty static creature had a triumphant look about it. The static fuzz pulsated wildly, it's white holes for eyes wide and unalarmed, seemingly narrowing in on me in what could only be described as a cat's arse look. 

The graying old man screamed.


	2. Edge 1:2

Like dominoes falling in a predestined line, the world around me reacted in the same fashion. Everything in my vicinity collapsed, first originating from behind the creature that was, unfortunately, within my grasp as blurry swirls of squared images before then flipping on their axes, twisting around me until I was engulfed whole.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Before I could react and get away, the scream from the man below was the last thing I had any comprehension of before everything was replaced anew.

Replaced and replicated into a new image.

A new, yet all too familiar, world.

Oh no . . .

And in that new image of a different world, I found myself falling. Before I knew what was happening, I was already landing on my feet, bracing myself upon impact and shaking off the slight startlement of the unexpected descent down.

Is this the same place?

Now standing at my full height and no longer crouched in a weird position, I was able to look around without any restrictions, and the first thing I noticed while my own thoughts and feelings were put on a momentary hiatus, was the fact the graying man from before was no longer around.

The same place that destroyed everything.

However, the second and more startling thing I noticed was the noise. The foremost being the amount of chatter that permeated the area like I was in the midst of a gym class with four classes playing a game of dodgeball. 

Which, by itself, was utterly strange. We didn't have a lot of people living in my town. Everyone usually migrated East towards bigger cities like Ann Arbor or Detroit leaving behind our farm lands to the Amish or retirees. 

We didn't even have a Walmart. All we had was a dollar store and a little convenience store the kids in my grade like to call The Bell. Mr Jefferson did make the best sandwiches there.

The very place that made me see things that shouldn't be there? That were never there before?

The third being the colors. Everything looked cloudier, grayer. Washed out. Like there was some sort of filtered lens covering my eyes, and it wasn't due to it being so dark outside in general, either; the old brick building that was an aged red color now sported a gray color and no longer hand the old fire escape attached to the side. The alleyway that had slabs of cream colored cement now looked cracked and decrepit like it hadn't seen a day of maintenance since it was first laid down a million years ago. And then the sky, now dark and cloudy like it was nighttime.

Maybe it was nighttime . . .

And then the fourth and final thing I noticed before the panic ensued, was the smell. And, no, it wasn't a bad smell. It was quite the opposite, in fact. Something smelled good. Mouthwatering.

If I wasn't experiencing a panic attack right about then, and also coming to the realization that I no longer had the black, fluffy turd creature in my grasp any longer, I would have been actively searching for that wondrous smell. 

But, that wasn't the case.

I was there again. In that world. In that place that started it all.

A different reality. A different dimension.

The very same place that ruined my life . . .

That gave me . . .

My heart palpated in my chest, my breath came out in rapid, irregular puffs of air. It felt like I was breathing in fire; my chest burned with every breath I took as panic overtook all my senses.

Blindly, I backed up until my back hit the other brick building in the alleyway; a building that use to home a resale shop. Now, I didn't want to know what lied inside.

All I wanted was to go home.

I didn't belong here. 

My fingers pulled at the ends of my hair near my collar before moving to my red jacket to grip the top zipper in a nervous, habitual gesture. Pulling the collar up, I tucked my chin inside the collar of my jacket, letting my hot, rapid breath warm over my chin and neck. Reminding me that I was still conscious. Still lucid.

Were they going to come for me like the last time I stumbled into this world and ruin my life all over again? Would more things that shouldn't be there start appearing all over again? Freaking me out to the point of hospitalization?

I couldn't go through that again.

The confused looks morphing into hate and disgust. The stares, the laughter, the taunting. It was all coming back to me. Eyes that I could never escape following my every move. Judging, waiting for that final string to be pulled where everything unravels so they can watch and do nothing to help. To stop it. Even when that help was within their power and all they had to do was reach out. 

Just reach for me. Please. I would have taken your hand. 

Hands were a powerful tool, too bad everyone I knew kept them warm in their own pant pockets as mine had grown cold. 

My pockets had been torn off.

Being too caught up in my own world, I did not hear the door that hadn't been there in my own world, suddenly open, and out stepped a humanoid dark blue frog in an apron and green, baggy pants. 

Right next to where I was standing.

The frog cupped its hands near its mouth, not yet noticing my wide eyed stare, and when the hand nearest me fell from its face, a cigarette was in its place between its froggy lips where it took a long drag off it then blew it in my general direction. 

Our eyes locked. We both froze. The smoke sizzled out around me, watering my wide eyes as they stayed locked onto the frog creatures. My heart felt like it was going to leap from my chest with how hard it was pounding into my ribcage. But before one of us could react, something caught my attention off to the side of my vision.

Around the corner of the building that used to be the Wine and Cheese brick and mortar store hoovered the black, fluffy bastard that was now the root cause of my most recent dilemma.

When we locked eyes, however, the static body frizzed out, then it took off around the corner and out of sight. 

So, without further hesitation, I, too, took off after it. Again. 

The frog creatures’ head moved with my sudden dash out of the alleyway but made no attempt to follow me. I had a feeling it was as bewildered as I was to see me as I was to see it, but I didn't want to stand around and find out. 

For all I knew, it cooked up humans and served them on platters in the restaurant he walked out of. My stomach churned as the delicious smell from earlier wafted from the open door. Images of human body parts being dished out and arranged on a platter as other frog creatures devoured it raced through my mind. 

The smell was no longer appealing to me anymore.

The chatter and noise from earlier grew louder as I rounded the corner, and when I took that sharp turn to chase after the fuzzball, knowing full well it could take me back in the same matter as it got me there, I hadn't been paying attention to where I was running. 

And in taking that corner sharply, I ran into something, or someone, hard enough to make me fall back onto my jean-clad bottom. 

"What the hell!" roared a vicious, nasal-filled voice from above me. Looking up from my perch on the ground, I was greeted to a large hand descending toward me and grabbing ahold of something on my head. Whatever he had grabbed, it pulled at a spot near my temples, hauling me up to my feet, and even further, so I was dangling high up into the air, above all the onlookers that were watching the spectacle I had unwittingly created. My hands reflexively clutched at the hands that grabbed me, circling my fingers around the course skin of the person's wrists.

I didn't know how my heart could take the amount of terror I was dealing it in the last ten minutes, but I was sure it was about to burst when I took in my surroundings at my new high angle for the second time since I’d arrived at this shithole of a place.

My small town that harbored only a couple hundred of equally dumb people was now buckling with moving bodies throughout the usually empty streets. Not even our underwhelming fall fest parade had these many bodies moving around. Rows upon rows of food littered the sidewalks with manlike bodies cluttering around it, hands shooting in the air while shouting out orders for their choice of--what I hoped was--food. Humanoid, and blatantly female, bodies paraded themselves in front of Thompson's bookstore, clad in very thin silk that barely covered their bodies, skin and silk colors ranging on the rainbow spectrum. Most of them had little spikes for eyebrows, but other than the spikes and skin tone, they looked relatively human.

But before my eyes could take in more of my surroundings from the high perch, I was soon dragged down and angled face-to-snout with a gigantic yellow boar.

“How dare ya run inter me yer lil’Sol-sucker.”

Soul? Sucker?

I couldn't see much of his body where he held me high in the air above him, but I had a clear view of his ugly porky mug. His--its?--face looked exactly like a pigs, but with bigger, rounder, and meaner looking brown eyes with a long smooth snout and yellowing tusks sticking out on either side of his mouth. He had rings punctured in his ears in different shapes and sizes with no consistency between his two pig ears. If he wasn't so big and didn't have actual human like arms and fingers, I'd think he was a normal pig that belonged to a tattoo parlor that used it for ear piercing practice. 

Or belonged to a mob boss to help get rid of damning evidence . . .

Belatedly, I looked around for the little fuzzball I was chasing but couldn't find it within my now limited eyesight. My fear was palpable on my face knowing that I lost my ticket out of there. How was I going to get home now?

The humanoid boar started to laugh. I had to turn my head away because his breath was making me gag. If Pumbaa's breath was this bad, Timon was a really good friend. “Ya pickpocket me, Sol-sucker?” It snorted. An actual, pig sounding snort. “Ya run inta me and steal from me! Ya have no idea who'ur messin’ with, Sol-sucker.” 

"I didn't do nothin'" I yelled in its face. Reaching back from my hold on his wrist, I grabbed at whatever he was holding on to near my temples and then froze. 

It wasn't possible. 

This wasn't right.

His fat, grubby, piggy, sausage fingers held tightly to something on my head that shouldn't be there. Something that had only appeared after my last visit to this godforsaken place as a semi-translucent, incorporeal form. A something only I could see.

No one else could see them, and they sure as hell weren't supposed to be real and touchable! My hands had always passed through them in the mirror!

Damn it. I wanted to cry again.

I had horns. Real horns. Not incorporeal horns that I had only just got used to seeing after my last visit to this shitfest of a world. Real, tangible horns attached to on either side of my head. 

This place. . . This world was a literal Hell.


End file.
